Coping with the Life
by CrimsonSkeleton
Summary: A sequel to 'It's gonna be alright'.


Inspector Lestrade was standing behind his car, waiting for someone. He looked at the mobile phone, scrolling up and down to the text messages, hoping Sherlock would arrive shortly.

"Come on, Sherlock. Where are you? You said you wanted to come." The DI muttered to himself.

The silver haired DI continued to looked around, his brown eyes searching for the dark head of his consulting detective. Sherlock always showed whenever it came to cases.

The consulting detective was a genius when it came to crime scenes. Lestrade could not do this without Sherlock, his good friend.

John's death deeply affected Sherlock, it was a shock to Sherlock, but Lestrade thought he could get through it. However Lestrade realized, Sherlock's emotions were getting to him. He recalled how Sherlock had screamed and sobbed right in the front of Lestrade's face. It surprised Lestrade, he had never seen anything like this, and not after John's death.

It was different from Mycroft's death, Sherlock and Mycroft were not very close, but this. John...it was totally different. John was like a treasure to Sherlock. So far an expensive vase, John was still a good friend to Sherlock.

Lestrade never gave much thought to Sherlock's feelings, normally when he and Sherlock were on a crime scene, Sherlock never showed his own feelings towards people. He was always pretending to show indifference, or manipulative using people's feelings or honesty revealing them. But to John, it was different. John was only one person that Sherlock revealed his feelings to. This was very strange to Lestrade, so very completely strange.

While waiting for Sherlock, he took a pack of cigarettes, opened it, took one of them, put it back into the pocket, a hand pulled a blazer out while another hand shoving into the inside pocket and took a lighter out. Just before he flicked a lighter, a husky voice froze him.

"Don't you think that's bad for you, Greg?"

Lestrade just frozen there, slowly closed his eyes, a cigarette still held by his mouth, sucks his own breath, a deep grainy voice escapes "Sherlock."

"I am sorry for being late. I was on the motorway."

Lestrade blinked, took a cigarette out of his mouth and turned around to Sherlock.

"M-Motorway?! What were you doing there, Sherlock?!"

"Uhm, I was in the cab, and there were a huge quence of the cars on the road. It seems it might be a big accident. I didn't have the time to observe it, and I thought it would be the best time to meet up with you first. Before I did something stupid with that accident on the road. So, anyway, what is the case?"

"Uh, Sherlock. That's why I asked you to come here. That, that's actually what I need your help for! With that car accident! You...You...!"

"Idiot?" with a sassy smile.

"Oh, Sherlock! Hehe, well, yes. But don't worry about that. Move on. Anyway, before we start here, how are you coping?"

Sherlock blinks at him, then realizes. "Oh, uhm, same old, same old. You know..." he mumbled, looking down.

"Nothing new?"

Sherlock replied simply by shaking his head.

"Oh, ok. But, Sherlock, if you have anything that you need, or need to discus, please, please, talk to me, ok? I am here. I am only person that you have to talk with. I know, I am not good enough to help you. But I-"

"Lestrade."

Looking up at Sherlock, searching for forgiveness. But it turned out Sherlock's smile and nods.

There he goes again. Sherlock's smile.

"It is fine. Thank you."

"Ah. Uhm." he cleared his throat, have to think about the case for Sherlock. "You got my text message? About this case?"

"Oh yes, you said there were car crash. Two dead, but one alive. Where is the witness?"

"The witness is a woman. She is over there. She must be about 30s, two deceased were her boyfriend and a cousin. She explained that there was an accident. No drinking, no drugs, nothing. We checked on it. But we could not figure out how it happen. She said she couldn't remember anything. The boyfriend and her just started dating these last few weeks , they were planning to go on holiday for a week, she asked her cousin to come along as well, because her cousin was ... uhm ..."

Sherlock still looked at him. "Yes? Was?"

Coughing with a shame. "Sherlock, I know it's sounds difficult. But her cousin was in the Army."

There was a sharp tension in Sherlock's body, his throat was so tight, difficult to shallow.

Lestrade was waiting for Sherlock's response. Asking if he wanted more information. Sherlock immediately nodded , trying to control his emotions, thinking of John. No, no, not John. Not now. Just moving on. He's all gone already. This case might pain Sherlock greatly, and any kind of link to the Army, would only make it worse, after John's death, everything was worse. But this time, Sherlock would try to face his grief.

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock still nodded at him, then coughed "Yes, it's alright. Continue, please."

"Ok, if you wish. Her cousin was in the Army, a male, named Damian. She knew how difficult it was for him when he returned after the Army. Because of the memories of the bad days in there. You know,...shooting, things like that. So she wanted Damian to come along with her and her boyfriend for the holiday, hoping that it will help him to relax and forget about the bad memories."

"Yes, I can see that."

"Do I have get this right statements of those people?"

"Hmm, you get it right. But there is something off about this woman."

"What do you mean?"

"You said there is no drinking or drugs in here, right?"

"Yes, that's right. So?"

"So she must be the one who caused it."

Lestrade gave a sharp look towards Sherlock. "I am sorry, but are you saying she did THIS?"

"Why not? Look at her hands."

Lestrade looked over at her, it was only about 6 feet away, checking on her hands, it's blurry to see, but can see the different colour on her hands. She has some purple marks on them.

"Uh, yeah, I can see she got some marks on her hands. But we did asked her before about these, and she said it was from the accident. Maybe the windows touched her hands, and-" he stopped when Sherlock chuckled.

A chuckle meant something, Lestrade knew there would be more. Giving a sigh, shoved both hands onto the pockets. "Ok, Sherlock. Give me a shot. What do you think?"

"Jealously. Upset. Grief."

Lestrade nodded slowy, waiting for some more details.

"To..." Sherlock looked away, holding his tears back to the eyes.

"Sherlock?" he gently placed his hand on Sherlock's shaking arm. "Whoa, Sherlock, you're shaking! What's wrong?" his voice is filled with concern and worried.

"Stop it, please. I beg you, stop it. Have no mercy on me!"

"What? Sherlock, we are the middle of the crime scene and you are upset by something! What did I do? Did I bring you in at the wrong time?"

"No. No, no, no, no! Everything is not your fault! It is just me!"

"Then what is it? Tell me, please. I am your friend and I still bloody worried about you!"

Then there it goes again. His kindness. That's what Sherlock wanted. To hear Lestrade's concern voice. He bursts into tears, sobbing. "Lestrade...please..."

"Sherlock? What's happened? Did someone hurt you?" Lestrade grabbed Sherlock's arms with his strong hands, forcing his eyes upon on Sherlock's eyes. He doesn't know how he's going to help Sherlock, but he would try his best to watch out for Sherlock.

Just looking at him, look at Sherlock's state. No Mycroft to help him with the ideas for the case. No John to help him with the warm, comfort words and the best doctor ever to give the good medication. No Molly to help him to go over the bodies with him to check for clues. Just Lestrade. Lestrade would help him with...with everything and anything he can.

With the head shaking, biting his own lips, blinking the wetness from his eyes trying to stop the tears flowing out. "No. It's just me. It's my feelings. Every time I hear this words, 'army', 'upset', 'grief' and seeing this woman crying, it's something stabs my heart. Something missing."

"S-Sherlock..."

"She was...the one who...caused it...She took her cousin's life out misery."

Knowing this was the wrong time for Sherlock to be there, knowing it was affecting him, knowing it would only bring memories about the past, knowing it would make him think about something missing. Something that Sherlock must have something that should not be missing.

"Sherlock, we should stop this now! We can go for the coffee and forget about this. I will make a call to Scotland Yard to do this investigation. If they find anything, they will give us a ring, ok? Is that ok with you?"

With a sniff, the detective nodded.

"Ok, let's go to the Speedy's. Because it's easier for you and a very short walk to your flat. Good idea? Or no?"

"Lestrade..." he chuckles "Why would you think I would return to the flat after finish meeting up with you in the cafe?"

Lestrade realized that would be not good idea for Sherlock go to the Speedy's Cafe because his flat was only next door, so that would mean Sherlock would return to the depression state if Lestrade finish the coffee quickly and goes. So Lestrade swiftly changed this idea.

"Oh, wait, no, that is not good idea. I am sorry. Forgive me. It's just a thought. Sherlock, tell me the truth. How ARE you coping?"

"I...I...I am fine. Look at me. I am fine. Honestly. Could you please...stop looking at me like that ."

"You know why that is, Sherlock? Because I am searching for your honesty in your eyes, but all I could see is sadness and something hiding from me. Something you wish you never told me anyway. Sherlock, I know it is so hard for you. I know it is been 5 years now. But it is only you and me. We only have each other. You are like my brother. I remember once John told me that you were unbelieveable because of your bad attitude towards me, because of your showing off. But after John taught you some manners, you came to me and said sorry. I never expected that, really. I think John wanted you to be good to me, because I was the one who helped you with the cases. You enjoyed it and solved some good cases. I find the cases for you, and you solve them. "

Sherlock tried to control his feelings towards Lestrade because of his kindness and caring that he showed to Sherlock, the consulting detective wished to reveal his feelings and emotions in return. Lestrade cared and genuinely wants to listen.

But would Lestrade really listen to Sherlock? Sherlock has doubts, after all Lestrade knows Sherlock was always showing off, ignoring what was right and what was wrong.

He would always whine about not getting any new cases. Always get bored. Lestrade knew that. But after Sherlock met John, things changed. Sherlock had changed. He learned how to be patient when there weren't any cases. Sherlock remembered the time when Lestrade asked Sherlock if he had any problems with John, Lestrade would always listen to him vent.

Sherlock had never thought about that. He didn't view Lestrade as a friend or brother, but like a toy, using him for any cold cases which lead Sherlock into a enjoyable times.

"Lestrade" he sniffed, looking for the right words. " I really appreciate your concern. But I shall be ok. I can manage. Without John, I could manage it. Every day I was reading his letter from 5 years ago, this could help me to stay strong. Because he asked me for just only two words: Be strong. So I have to be strong for John." He looked back at Lestrade, which Lestrade stands there and listens. Lestrade is always listening, and nodding in understanding.

"Yes, that is really good for you to read it everyday to help you to continue to be strong, for John, of course." he smiled. "But also, I am sure John would like for you to talk to someone. In real life. Because whatever happens, anything, you want to talk about to bring your grief, to someone. Like me."

Ok. Ok. Ok. No more crying. No more crying. He is so nice, so kind, so thoughtful.

"Thank you, Lestrade." Sherlock said, trying to change the subject in the conversation "Go for the coffee, please?"

"Oh, sorry! I forgot! God, why'd I never think about that? I'm sorry, Sherlock. Uhm, where would you like to go? Somewhere anywhere to help get your mind off of things?"

"Hmm, let me think. Regency Cafe?"

"Oh, that's a bit long way, but ok. That's fine. Hop in my car. Get in."

They were chuckling , joining in the car, slamming the doors. The engine starts, and off they go.

When they arrived in the cafe, Lestrade was so kind enough to pay for the drinks. He doesn't want Sherlock having a hard time with looking after himself, so instead he offers the drinks to Sherlock. With the ordering of the drinks, both sips with the one gulp into their throats, but Sherlock has stopped drinking. Lestrade noticed that. He knows Sherlock has the problem with the food and the drink. Sherlock is starting to have an Eating Disorder. He noticed he lost a weight, he's going to be light like a feather, but Lestrade tried to offer him the good food, Sherlock still refused, but with a thank you.

"Alright, Sherlock. Now, tell me. I'm all ears."

Playing with the circle on the edge of the glass with his middle finger, his beautiful clear-sky eyes looked upon the ground brown eyes. For the few minutes, he looked down again, playing with his glass. Lestrade knows that face. So embarrassed to show it.

"Sherlock. It is alright. Don't be afraid. Just let it go. I'm here."

Sherlock winced at this. So much concern.

"You..." he gritted his teeth, feeling so fed up "You're acting like my counselor! Stop it!"

This was shocking to Lestrade Sherlock's screaming. Sherlock realizes that, he was panicking "Oh, I am so sorry, Greg. Please, I am sorry! Don't push your righteousness against me, please! I promise I would be good!" he grabbed Lestrade's hand, which turned out he didn't flinch, just frozen in shock.

Did John really do that? Standing with his righteousness to Sherlock? Or was Sherlock just feeling guilty about showing a bad attitude to Lestrade? Or had it started when he was a child? Sherlock looked so vulnerable.

"Sherlock..." he looked down at the hand that Sherlock held on. "It's gonna be alright. It's fine. Just tell me what's happening." then looked back at Sherlock, trying to calm his nervous and anxiety down after Sherlock's screaming.

It's gonna be alright.

These words make Sherlock relax. Now he calmed down.

Finally he revealed all feelings to Lestrade, a mixture of screaming, shouting, crying and panicking. People were watching and hearing everything Sherlock said but that doesn't bother Sherlock, and Lestrade. Everything said Lestrade had to carefully show he was listening. Drawing in his feelings, trying to put the missing pieces into the jigsaw, for understanding of Sherlock's feelings.

When Sherlock finished his venting to Lestrade, he was waiting for him to say something back.

Lestrade, didn't have the experience with anything like this, this was his first time to deal with Sherlock's vented feelings. Self-harm, grief, lonely, self-esteem, eating disorders, nightmares, etc. That was a lot of lists for Sherlock who had been suffering with these. Lestrade was no doctor, or counselor, but trying his best to understand it. The first part he needed to learn: self-harm. He recalled someone saying to never shout at the inflicted person for why they hurt themselves. Apparently it never worked and it may guilt people who self-harm to kill themself, and he definitely didn't want Sherlock to take his own life. Or some people say never ignore them, just listen, be gentle and care for them like a hurt child. Lestrade would try. So carefully, he stroked Sherlock's hand, and asked "Sherlock, I know it is hard for you. But I want to understand. If you don't mind, can I ask to see your scars where you cut it?"

Sherlock wanted to protest it, because of Lestrade's show of kindness he could not. Was it a good idea to show the DI? What if he hated him for it it? What if he rejected him? What if he yelled?

Lestrade was still stroking his hand, very gently, like a father would a son. Saying it's going to be alright.

Sherlock feels like a child who lost his father. A child needs a father to care for him. A child need his father to hold his hand and look after him carefully and say it's going to be alright. Holding his hand is like protection. Lestrade is like a father to him, Lestrade is offering protection.

Slowly, he rolled his t-shirt sleeves that exposed his old scars to Lestrade. With Lestrade's eyes on these, it moves his heart, feeling sorry for Sherlock. Self-harm is really bad, both know that. But for Lestrade, he knows self-harm helps Sherlock to stop thinking about the past, and the blam he put on himself. He's nervous, but needs to touch them, to say they are beautiful. He knows it sounds crazy to say these scars are beautiful just because they are bad memories for Sherlock. Every Time Sherlock looks at them, he winces, hates to see them everyday, wishing they would vanish, but knowing they will always be there.

With Sherlock's flinch, Lestrade's fingers slowly tens over his scars. Shivering with the touch, he missed touch, but it was not the same as John's touch. Still Lestrade's touch, seems so tense and soft.

Sherlock looked down at the scars then up at Lestrade's eyes. The DI's brown eyes so full of concern, searching for understanding. He wanted to move away and hid the scars but the touch stops him there, wanting and needing more. It helps him to relax.

"Sherlock."

The raven-haired startled by the voice breaking the long silence, still looking at him. Lestrade's eyes forcing on his scars. "They are...beautiful. I am sorry you had to cut yourself. I am sorry you are going through this."

Sherlock blinked.

What? Lestrade understood this? But how?

"How do you understand, Lestrade?" Sherlock returns back to the old Sherlock, because Lestrade would like to hear his serious voice.

Lestrade smiled and looked at him. "I might not have understood this before, but you've had far worse days than I. I know nothing about your background. But now I understand. Tell me, was it after John's death?"

A nodded reply.

"This affected you, and you think that it's your fault that you couldn't bring John back?"

Again a nod.

"Then you felt urge to hurt yourself because of loneliness and depression?"

A heavy sigh and a nod.

Lestrade wanted to cry. His eyes starting to water. Sherlock frozen and looked at him, with confusion. "Lestrade?"

"Sherlock...I should have been there for you, after John's death. I should have been there for you. To support you. It was my fault. For not helping you."

Before Sherlock protested, he held his hand up.

"No, it is true. Because I left you. I left you to control yourself. But I realize now that you couldn't. Look at you. You're starving yourself. You cut yourself. You have nightmares. You hate yourself. Your hair is changing. Your face is so pale. You dont look after yourself properly. Your smell is a bit unbearable now. No shower. Sherlock, I wish I didn't have to see this! I was supposed be looking after you! I promised John and Mycroft."

"Wait, Mycroft?"

"Yes, Sherlock. He asked me to look after you, before he died in that hospital bed."

"Mycroft...requested that you take care of me just because...?"

"He knows you would be alone."

Sherlock tried to speak, but closed his mouth. Eyes looking left then right, he turned his head to the side, rubbing his messy hair, and trying to think.

"Sherlock, I am your only friend left now. You know that, dont you?"

"Yes, Lestrade. Do me a favor. Shall we forget about this? My feelings and everything?"

"What? Your feelings are important! This is how you feel! I want to understand. I cannot leave you like this. Not like this!"

"Wait a minute, does it hurt you?"

"Yes!"

Silence.

All silence.

Then a voice broke out a silence: "Inspector Lestrade!"

Both looked over at the figure who called out to Lestrade. Lestrade puzzled, looking behind him wondering who would call to him.

A person came over, and stands behind Sherlock. "I've been trying to call you. What's happened?" It was Sergeant Sally Donovan.

"Oh, hi, Sally. I'm sorry. I invited Sherlock to here for a break from this morning's crime scene. I turned my phone off, for a bit of peace for ourselves. What's up? Got any news?"

"Yes, we found out this witness was guilty of the murder of her boyfriend and cousin."

"Really? How?"

"Why not ask Sherlock?"

Lestrade looked at Sherlock. "Well?"

"I am afraid I can't say." he placed both hands together.

"What? Why not?"

Sherlock looked at him, pleading to not push him to forward to tell him. Noticing this as a sign, the DI turned to Donovan who was impatiently waiting. "Well, Sherlock's not in the right mood to speak at the moment. He needed the time to tell me all the details. Thank you for your help."

Donovan looked at Sherlock, then looked at Lestrade. "Very well. I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye, have a good break." She walked off to the outside door.

"I'm sorry to ask you for this."

Sherlock shook his head. "No, it's fine. She was in a similar situation as me. Because she cut herself, due to her cousin being in the army. She pushed him to get into the army to save the country and get the money, so they both can save the family. But when he returned home, he was suddenly a different person, he panicked and screamed and said he was seeing things that people couldnt see. So she planned a holiday for him and her boyfriend. When they stopped for fuel, she got out of the car and quickly damaged one of the wheels. Using a strong metal pin, say roughly about 5 inches, enough to leave a hole in the wheel. So when they got back into the car to the ride, the wheel loosens. And the driver suddenly loses control, then the car itself flipped over the road and threw itself to the side and crashed on the ground. Two people died, but one was alive, which was her. You might wonder how did she live? Well, she sat in the back with the seatbelt on, she held it very firm, to keep herself from being pushed from the back seat. She took her boyfriend with her, because he disparaged her family's lack of wealth and her cousin's health, so she took revenge on him. You said they were dating for only a few weeks ago? They were actually dating 6 years, so not a new couple. She took her cousin's life because she could not bear to see him suffering, so she let him die, there will be no more pain for him anymore...no..."

Sherlock sniffed, closed his eyes, trying to hold the tears back.

"Sherlock, thank you, for giving me the honest details about this situation with this woman. Now we know who did this. You did it. You did well to open it." he smiled.

"Thank you, Greg. And thank you for not yelling at me for not say anything."

"What? Why would I do that? You are Sherlock Holmes. Me, Inspector Lestrade, yelling at you, Sherlock Holmes? Hardly!" said with a friendly smile.

"Well, not like five years ago though. You were aggressive towards me when I gave out hurtful information about you and your wife. Back then, Lestrade, I felt so awful that I hurt you. I am sorry about that."

"No, it's fine. That was a long time ago. I know you were the sort of person who was always like that, but I knew that you didn't mean anything by it."

"I was planning to say I did mean it, however, John punched my side of the face to not say anything more, so I stopped. You asked why he did that, I lied that I fell. I know I was so stupid. My mind was like uncontrollable itself. I didn't ever know how to say something nice to everyone. John was the one who helped me to change the nice words, you know like the salt? Salt are tasty. When you order the food, just before you eat it, you have to put a salt into it, and eat it to see if it has a good taste. It's goes same with me, just before I talk to you, I have to think of something for how to be kind or nice, then talk to you. But it wasn't easy, you know? I grew up with my own showing off attitudes. My mother was upset when I had no friends. Mycroft teased me about it. My father was trying to help me to find a good friend, but I wasn't interested."

"So, then you found John? He was your first friend, right?"

"Well, you are the first, but we didn't get along much, more likely. But John...he was different."

"Hm?" Lestrade grabbed a pint, taking a bit more, while he eyed Sherlock, curious for some more explanation.

"You're curious, Lestrade."

Lestrade's glass has stopped moving towards his mouth, frozen, just before he could say something. Sherlock opened his mouth.

"Your eyes told me that. They're full of curiously. You desire to get the information from me. Well, Lestrade, John was legitimately different. I don't know why or how , but he was. He was a show of kindness. He was admirable to everyone, well, except me. He tried harder to show it to me, but he couldn't stand my demonstrations at the crime scenes, so he would lose it."

"Lose it? What, how?"

"Well, you could say that John was a sort of aggressive person. Anger. Due to his being in the Army. He had experience with attitudes. He had it from his own Captains and fellow soldiers, it was a hard life for John. Whenever John made mistakes or messed up in training, his own Captain would yell or punish him. These attitudes stabbed at John's very heart and mind, meanwhile he learned it and accepted it and made himself indifferent to the attitudes. Besides, as an Army Doctor, he had to show patients and caring for people who sought medical attention. When I first met John, I always knew that I had the right person for my cases. It would be him. He would be so useful for it. He could help me with the medical details, because he was a doctor. I knew that I shouldn't push him into it because of how it deeply affected him due to his time in the I was trying to take him into it and make him forget about it and get on with the life. But I know I made a mistake."

Lestrade puzzled at this, this caught his attention. Lestrade had been listening to Sherlock's speech, but did Sherlock say that he made a mistake? Where did this come from?

"Mistake? You never make any mistakes, Sherlock. Unless you are thinking of what happened with John."

"Yes, second option is correct. I made a mistake drawing John into this dangerous situation but I needed a team. Someone to help me with ideas to put the right pieces of the jigsaw together. There, and there was John. He would play the perfect role for my cases. I didn't even know why I chose John. He was just...a man who I chose for help with the cases."

Lestrade nods, "Yes, I understand. You were looking for someone who had good qualifications, for the cases. Someone who knew well about the situation, someone who knew about the health or damage body and stuff like that."

"That's right. Lestrade, ... why did I feel John was the right person for me?"

"Huh? Oh, were you and John...?"

"Eh? Oh, no, no, no! We weren't ever a couple! Oh god, Lestrade! What were you thinking? You and your weird little brain! You know, I wasn't interested anything like that?"

"Oh, gee, I am sorry, the right person for you just sounded like...you know?"

"Oh, no, I mean, it was like, uhm, the best part of me? No, wait, like, the best team together?"

"Oh uhm, I see. Perhaps you found a better friend who understood you very well."

"Was it? Perhaps that was a reason why I chose John."

This gives Lestrade a bit of a soft chuckle. Sherlock never understand anything about friendships.

"Well, yes, you and John were like brothers. John was like your big brother who protect you whenever it came to danger. You two were never lonely. Both of you who lived alone before, but when you met John, you weren't lonely. Anymore."

"Hmm. That's true." a sigh. "I thought alone protects me, but John said friends protect people."

"That's what I agree with, that. It's true. How was I going to protect you when you are in danger?" Another slip of drink.

"Ah, yes, I never thought of that. I remember a few of cases when I was in danger or trapped, John was always there. To protect me. He was a greatest man I ever knew."

Lestrade smiled, knowing Sherlock was finally showing his feelings and opening up to Lestrade, for the first time. Yes, he needed to open up and share his grief, but would it make Sherlock get better after talking to Lestrade?

"Yes, Lestrade, I will get better, thank you."

Lestrade blinked but then chuckled "You know what I was thinking, don't you? You are very welcome. Anytime. Remember, I am here if you need to talk. Anytime you're desperate and need to pour your grief out."

"Yes, I will, thank you, Lestrade."

Lestrade looked at his watch. "Ah, it's after 12 noon now. What are you going to do?"

"I am not sure."

"Want to have lunch?"

"Ah, you know I don't take food from the people, don't you? Besides, I am not hungry."

A raising an eyebrow at Sherlock. "Sherlock." with the deep, but firm voice.

A bit whining, looking away. Concern. He's so full of concern, Lestrade's eyes.

"Ok, ok, I would like to have a bubble and veggie Eggs Benedict, please. Thank you, Lestrade."

"Great, be right back." Lestrade stood up, and walked to the counter, to get the order for Sherlock and himself.

While Sherlock was waiting, he looked out at the big glass mirror-like windows where people walked past, some boring, some interesting, some had a bad life, some having a good life, some had wealth, some were poor, some have-

A voice disturbing his thought, "Ok, they're on the way." sits down, shoved a wallet into the pocket, his own figure was blocking Sherlock's eyes from looking out the windows, but it doesn't bother him anymore, his eyes changed direction to meet Lestrade's.

"Lestrade."

"Hm?"

"Thank you. For being a good friend. I am sorry I left you out of the cases. I would like to use you a bit more if I needed help on cases. Would it be alright if we are back on the...team again?"

Sherlock flinched when Lestrade gave a howl of laughter.

"Oh, Sherlock! This is my first time hearing something like this! I mean, seriously?"

"Of course." a confused puzzled.

"That's brilliant! Thanks, man."

"Marvelous." Sherlock smiled.

The food came their way, placing them on the table. Two men picked up the cuterly, and slicing into their food to eat. Sherlock rarely touched any food that people offered him, but this time he had to do it, because Lestrade's offer for him to eat was so kind and generous. He had to accept this offer. While they were eating, they talked to each other. Talking about Sherlock's personal life, crime scenes, Lestrade's family life, and things like that.

Sherlock needed a someone who understand his pain and grief. Lestrade is the only one that Sherlock has left in his life. Mycroft cannot help him anymore because he died in the hospital. Mycroft had asked Lestrade, had made the request, to look after Sherlock. Because after John's death, Mycroft knew how deeply it affected Sherlock.

He could see something different from Sherlock. Sherlock would never been so down before. Mycroft tried to give the best he could to Sherlock, but Sherlock still refused and joined in the drugs and partying. Mycroft found the old letter from John in the flat. When Sherlock arrived home, he was in bad shape, he pushed himself into the hard leather black sofa, with the face flat against it.

Sherlock sensed Mycroft was in the flat, Sherlock shot up quickly and looked around. Noticing the letter wide open on the high table, he walked to it and picked it and read it. It was from John when he was in the army. Sherlock realized what he had done with his life. His life was messed up. He forced himself into drinking and drugs. He completely forgot about one request from John saying 'Be strong' .

Whining and crying out with all his might, he felt guilty that he rejected this letter. He hid it on the shelf, but who opened it to force him to realize this? That would be Mycroft. Sherlock knew that Mycroft was trying to support him, but Sherlock snapped at him and said he wished to never see him again. Mycroft knew that Sherlock was just depressed he was saying horrible things just after John's death.

Sherlock needed to move on. Forgetting his grief, he must look after himself better. He fed himself, learned how to cook proper, tidying some areas in the flat, gave up on the drinking and drugs. He kept some of John's clothes to help him remember the doctor.

Some days he wore John's favourite jumper, even though it was too small for him, it help him when he wanted to relax and think of John. Trying to look around for the good memories in the flat. He remembered once when John was yelling at him for what he saw in the fridge: thumbs, head, legs. Sherlock loved to hear his tone. He loved to see John's reactions. Also, Sherlock was grateful when John provided him with the cup of tea and breakfast food. Yes, he missed that, but now had to do it himself, with John not here.

Mycroft wanted to provide the food if Sherlock couldn't cope with looking after himself, but Sherlock had to try to look after himself and learned how to make cup of tea and make the breakfast, or even the lunch and tea time. He did this for John. Even John's not here, it would hurt Sherlock when Sherlock accidently called out to him in pain. It hurt to realize John still was not there anymore. He had almost forgot about that. Sherlock had to look after himself and clean up with the first aid.

Sherlock had to try to coping with his life a life without John. Killing himself would be unnecessary, that would affect everyone who knew Sherlock Holmes well, as a famous consulting detective in the whole London. Sherlock been through the suicide thing once, but faked it and completely forgot how it affected John, so he accepted it and asked John for forgiveness.

The response to his request for forgiveness was the punching and yelling, but Sherlock deserved that. He knew John was still mad at him, but deep inside John still loved him. John couldn't hate Sherlock. He couldn't. Sherlock had to learn for how to stop hurting John. He begged and asked John to punch him if he got it wrong, but John refused and kindly taught him. Sherlock would not accept that, but tried to accept it.

Through 5 years after John's death, Sherlock is still coping with life. He would never do the suicide game again, because of John. Now Mycroft's dead. Molly's dead. Mrs Hudson is nearly dying. There's only one a person who is left alive, it's Lestrade. Sherlock now would look out for Mrs Hudson and Lestrade.

What would he do if everyone in his life had gone?

Sherlock would still continue with his life till he died of old age.

He had to stay positive and remain so forever.


End file.
